


Southern Comfort, Not So Much Pt. Two

by SamDeanMeandFreakslikeUs



Series: Southern Comfort, Not So Much [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamDeanMeandFreakslikeUs/pseuds/SamDeanMeandFreakslikeUs
Summary: Sam blames SamDean blames DeanGarth still doing what he can to help(That's Garth for ya) (I didn't like Garth at first, but Dean's right. He grows on ya. Now I really love him. Like Bobby, Charlie, Kevin, Benny, and well you get the picture. Right?)
Series: Southern Comfort, Not So Much [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080809
Kudos: 7





	Southern Comfort, Not So Much Pt. Two

**Author's Note:**

> This won't be as long as the first one, and a lot less violent, but it's part of what sets the stage. Hope you like it anyway. I'll try to post every one or two days till the end.

When Sam got out of the motel room, and away from Dean's glaring eyes and accusing words, he just ran. Like he wanted to do back at Rufus's cabin, where he had found Dean, when all the accusations first started. But he had stayed, for Dean's sake. He hadn't really wanted to go back to hunting, after he left Amilia. He had gone to the cabin to get his head together, figure out what he wanted to do next. But finding Dean there he knew, then, that not hunting probably wasn't in the cards. If Dean needed him then he'd hunt... again. So he stayed, even with Dean's attitude. Sam had hoped, after awhile, Dean would get back to the mind set of the brother Sam remembered, but it just seemed to get worse the longer they were together. The Spector had just brought it all to a head, and Dean had allowed it to come spewing from his mouth, and Sam's soul was demolished again. 

Sam's chest felt like it had a thousand tons of lead crashing down on it, mashing the life out of him. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn't let the tears, burning behind his eyes, fall. He didn't deserve that luxury. He didn't deserve the forgiveness Dean had promised at Rufus's grave sight. Unlike Bobby, Dad, Mom, so many others, and even a vampire Dean had only known for a little over a year, Dean obviously didn't consider Sam family any longer, if he ever did. Not that Sam blamed him. Sam had screwed up so many times, disappointed his big brother so much, how could Sam blame Dean. How could Sam even consider himself a Winchester. He didn't deserve that right either.

Sam ran farther, faster then he could ever remember running. When he was forced to stop, because his heart was pounding out of his chest, he could no longer breathe, and his legs would no longer hold him up, he did just what Jess had predicted he would do without her. He crashed N burned.

Sam's lungs burned, his leg muscles burned, his heart wouldn't stop pounding, and neither would his head. He should have never left the cage. It seemed he still had, and accumulated more, sins he needed to pay for.

Sam laid on the ground under some large trees out in the middle of, he had no idea where, nor did he care if he ever found out. His heart was shattered, his soul dead. Maybe he could find an out-of-the-way abandoned something, somewhere and never be heard from again. Never disappoint Dean ever again. Sam decided laying right where he was, was probably the best place for him at the moment. He figured he was far enough from humanity that he couldn't hurt anyone, so he closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and let the darkness of sleep over take him.

  


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After Dean, with Garth's help, searched all around the motel and surrounding area, finding nothing, Dean dialed Sam's cell, listened to it ring, and then the voice mail,

"This is Sam. Leave a message." 

"Sam. I.... I'm.... Look, just call me back. Please. I want to.... I need to.... I don't remeber what happened, but I didn't mean any of it. I'm sor..."

Sam's cell phone beeped, cutting off the rest of Dean's message.

Dean hung up, hoping Sam would call him back, let him at least tell his side of the story, and headed back to the motel room, hoping Sam might be there. Garth met him outside the room door, waiting for Dean to return, hopefully with Sam.

Garth's anticipation dropped from his face when Dean came around the corner, shaking his head, no Sam in sight.

"Where do you think he would've gone?" Garth asked, sympathetic concern in his voice, and in his eyes.

"No clue." Dean answered, pushing past Garth, not looking at him, and openned the motel room door.

Dean went to the bedside table, openned the drawer, took out a bottle of whiskey, and took a long swig. Sinking onto the bed, he took another swig, then another, then a few more. What if Sam never came back this time? He had said alot of things in the past, that he knew hurt Sam, but all those times he had, had good reasons for, and Sam knew it. Not this time though. There was no reason, good or bad, for him to have said the things he did, or felt the kind of anger and hate he remembered at the hands of the Spector. Dean was pulled from his selfdeprecating and looked up when he heard Sam's cell phone ringing.

"...won't find Sam through his phone." Garth was saying, holding up Sam's cell. "Looks like he dropped it on the couch during the fight. Dean? How do you find someone that's gone to Purgatory, anyway?" Garth asked innocently.

"Sonovabitch." Dean said, more to himself then to Garth. He knew his little brother, Sam wouldn't be that irresponsible. Sam had left his phone on perpose. Sam didn't want to be found. "Shit shit shit!" he continued, mulling over everything that had happened, what Sam had told him since he got back from Purgatory, and what Garth had just asked.

"You were gone. Cass was gone, Bobby's dead. Crowley took Kevin off to who-knows-where. I was totally alone, and I didn't exactly have a road map. So I fixed up the Impala and just drove."

Why hadn't he been listening to Sam? Why hadn't he paid more attention to what Sam had been trying to tell him. Sam hadn't just given up and forgotten about him. Sam had been lost with no where to go and no one to turn to, 

"I didn't exactly have a road map."

Sam hadn't had any idea where to start looking for him. How was Sam suppose to know that standing too close to an exploding Dick would send your ass straight to Purgatory. He could be such an asshole sometimes. And for some reason he seemed to always take it out on his little brother, even when it wasn't Sam's fault. Why should Sam even want to look for him?

He had been so much in his own head since he'd gotten back, that he hadn't even been paying attention to what he'd been putting Sam through... Again. Just like after Sam had let Lucifer out. That hadn't been Sam's fault either...not really, but Dean had taken his anger and frustration out on Sam, and nearly drove him away then. This time, however, Sam had been totally innocent, and still got the shitty end of the stick. Dean wanted to get drunk, crawl under a rock, and die. Hopefully Sam would forgive him. It would take awhile, but Sam always, eventually, came around, and they would be back, arguing, joking around, fussing, and fighting the big bads together. There wasn't anything out there that wanted his brother specifically, that Sam couldn't handle. But Dean was still worried. He couldn't help it, it was in his blood, in his bones, ingrained in his very soul to look after his little brother. He needed to find Sammy, make sure, see with his own eyes, that Sammy was alright, and fix his jack-ass of a screwed-up choice. 

TBC

  


  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the Kudoes, and thank you to those who are, and will be taking this journey with me.  
> I do like to hear what you might think and if you might have any pointers for me
> 
> I have no claim to Supernatural or its characters


End file.
